


Lovesick (Chekov x Reader)

by KOREAlchemist



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3642807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KOREAlchemist/pseuds/KOREAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illness can hit anyone, especially those with a weak heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovesick (Chekov x Reader)

Lovesick (Chekov x Reader)

 

"Morning, Bones," you greeted your superior as you walked into the medic bay of the USS Enterprise. Aw, the life of a medic ensign is a tough one but you wouldn't trade it for the universe; it was always exciting with a new array of faces, diseases, and, your favorite part, new equipment always keeping you on your toes and today shouldn't be any different, right? 

"Mornin' kid," Bones shortly replied, popping your thought bubble as he handed you a flashcard with ensign's file, "Got your first case in already."

"Thanks," you nodded, making your way to your patient's seat, "Now let's see . . ." Your voice drew quiet as you read the name on the PADD. Chekov, Pavel. A deep blush started to dust your face as you read the name again, making sure you had the right information. No, you had the right PADD but yes, your patient was none other than your crush, Pavel Chekov. Pavel was one of the first people you met when you were transferred from the USS Polaris, literally walking right into him when you got completely loss in the starship's vast labyrinth of halls and forays. After a brief exchange of apologizes and trying to take the blame, the two of you became quick friends, usually only seeing each other for lunch breaks and shore leave. Yet that friendship quickly turned into a crush, leaving you torn to decide whether you want to tell him how you feel or just let it fester inside quietly and keep up the façade of "just friends". Yet here he was, just another patient, nothing more, nothing less. You gave a brief sigh as you calmed down and proceeded to treat him. 

"Good morning, Mister Chekov," you announced, trying to keep your professional complex. The Russian waved, greeting you that all too familiar smile of his.

"Morning, (y/n)," he joyfully hummed, that cheerful attitude of his caused the rouge to burn back onto your cheeks, "And please just Pavel."

"Alright Pavel," you corrected yourself, his name still tingling on your lips, "So what brings you in?"

"Vell, I haven't been feeling so vell," he chuckled, looking down at his feet as they hang of the bed.

"I see," you stated, amused by his childish actions, "So what seems to be the trouble?"

"I feel varm, like wy face is on fire, and wy chest aches." Popping an eyebrow, you sighed as you used the medical PADD to check his stats. 

"Hmm, your internal temperature readings seem fine," you muttered, swiping over the screen with your fingers, "But your heart rate's gone up dramatically." 

"R-really?" He seemed a bit shocked by this but hoped you thought nothing of it; he knew why his heart was racing at a hundred miles, he knew why his face burned like a million suns, and that reason was you. He felt this way since he first met you; whenever he saw you, his heart beat faster, his palms would sweat, and he swore he was on the verge of losing his mind. At first he thought the feelings would go away over time but it grew everyday to the point where it was painful just to call you a friend; he wanted to touch you, to hold you, to claim you as his and his only. Yet he quickly snapped into reality when he hear you call his name.

"May I?" you asked, your hand hovering near his face.

"O-of course," he mumbled as you placed your hand on his forehead; you hand felt cool against his skin, like a sweet oasis in the middle of a parched desert. However, you more on the worried side with the amount of heat Chekov was emitting.

"You really are burning up!" You were puzzled; why would the PADD read his temperature normal? He was obviously burning up. "Maybe you're developing a fever?" You mused out loud. 

"Maybe," he chortled, leaving a air of awkward silence. The pair of you looked off to either side before you realized your hand was still on his forehead.

"S-sorry,"You quickly removed it, flustered at the closeness.

"It is no problem," he brushed it off as if it was nothing yet was secretly disappointed by the disconnection. He watched as you waltzed over to the cabinet, taking out a small vile and putting it into a metal contraption.

"Here," you held down his hand, keeping him still as you administered the medicine into his arm, "This should help with the aches and the high temperature." 

"Thank you (y/n)," he nodded as he rubbed the now sore section of his limb before he got up, giving you a small nod.

"If you still sore or hot, you're always welcome back," you beamed, giving a small wave before McCoy called you over to help with another patient, "Take care, Pavel!"

"You too, (y/n)," he smirked, his brilliant mind running through a sleuth of illnesses and problems he would be more than happy to see you about.

 

~Time-skip~

 

For the last couple of weeks, Chekov took your promise very seriously as he would always come first thing in the morning with a new aliment; a month ago he ached all over, three weeks ago he had a upset stomach, two weeks ago he felt lightheaded, a week ago he couldn't sleep, and just a few days ago he seemed anxious, fidgeting with his thumbs and never making eye contact with you while you tried to diagnose his symptoms. Speaking of which, his aliments never aligned with any known disease or illness on record. Maybe it was a new virus or bacteria he picked up on shore leave? Maybe you weren't doing your job right? The latter worried you as you made your way to the medic bay where you always greeting by your superior who seemed even more irritated then usual this morning. 

"Hurry up, your patient's waiting," he growled as you walked in, practically shoving the PADD into your hands. 

"Let me guess; Pavel?" you replied in the same tone as you didn't even bother to look at the device.

"Of course," he retorted gruffly.

"Can you do me a favorite, Bones?" you asked, your tone and face softening.

"You want to me to find out what's wrong with him?" He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Yes please." You gave him a semi-fake smile, presenting the PADD back to him. He looked at you for a few before giving a heavy sigh.

"Here," he gave you his chart while he took yours, "You own me one."

"Thanks," you nodded as you looked at his chart, waltzing over to the ensign as he was battling with the common cold. McCoy, on the other hand, walked over to where Pavel would be waiting, ready to stop him from wasting his time and resources and get to the point. 

"So, what brings you down here this time?" He started as he looked at his   
PADD, the diagnosis being a throbbing in his brain.

"Vhere is (y/n)?" Pavel asked, confused as his regular blue shirt wasn't there to 'help' him. 

"Helping someone else," McCoy grumbled as he took a quick scan, again finding nothing wrong with him like the other millions of times he came down.

"Oh," Pavel sighed, getting up as he ran a hand through his crisp, curly locks, "Then maybe I should go . . ."

"Are you gonna tell her before you leave?" The Doctor asked as he stopped the young ensign from leaving.

"Vhat? I-I do not understand your quest-" 

"It's simple, kid; You're lovesick and the only cure is right over there," he interrupted, pointing over to you as you finished up with the red shirt, waving him goodbye as you figured he'd be dead before the week was out.

"I-I can't," Pavel shook his head, his cheeks growing beet red as he tried to talk his way out of confronting you, "She's busy right now and I have to get back to th-"

"(y/n), I need your help!" You heard your superior call you over, washing your hands before you strolled over. "Yes, McCoy?"

"I think Chekov here has somethin' to tell you," he chuckled before handling you his file, walking away from the two love birds, "I'll leave you two be."

After he retreated, you found yourself starting at the goofy-looking Russian you managed to fall in love with since you first saw him. "Yes Pavel?"

"(y/n)," he began as he looked down, masking his blush with his hand, "I vas never really sick. I just vanted to see you."

"O-oh," you stuttered, looking away as well as the confrontation was growing more and more awkward, "A-and why would you do that?

"Because I wove you?" He admitted, biting his lip as he awaited for your rejection. You were shocked at his statement at first but then you tilted his head you, your soft (e/c) eyes looking in his worried hazel eyes.

"I love you too, Pavel," you cooed softly as you pulled him into a light kiss, the weight and agony of your heart finally being soothed as you only parted when you heard a forced cough.

"Well that's all fine but you both have a job to get too," McCoy stated as he crossed his arms, glad the tension between he pair of you was over but he still had a job to do and needed every able bodied staff on hand.

"R-right," you mumbled as you pecked Pavel on the nose before helping him up, "I'll see you later then?"

"Of course," he beamed brightly as was finally rid of his aliment, the sweetest remedy being his new girlfriend, you.


End file.
